Lovely Inclinations
by Tai-taiAd1
Summary: She's just so loverly
1. Lovely Inclinations

Title: Lovely Inclinations  
  
Author: Meesh  
  
Disclaimer: Not Mines...  
  
Pairing: J/OC, J/R kinda  
  
Summary: She's just so loverly...  
  
A/N: Gah, I made the mistake of writing this last night but waiting to type it out today. =\ It's been sitting around and now that I'm out of my writing mood, I kinda don't feel so encouraged to post this. I just like the title. =| ...damn these stories are getting shorter...not a good thing...  
  
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"I think you're lovely," she says, bowing her head so slightly. Innocent hands fretting with themselves, fingers tumbling over knuckles. There's a cherry blush rising in her cheeks and her breaths are quick and noticeable. Jean, as flattered as she is, furrows her brow. 'Lovely' is definitely not a word anyone, in her 17 years of living, has ever associated her with before. Nevertheless, she smirks, moving in closer to the younger girl and takes ahold of her tangled hands, " Trust me, there's only one person here who's anything lovely, and it's not me."  
  
In a messy heap on the bedroom floor of this lovely girl, Jean's almost hesitant when she hears that girl emit a sharp, shocked gasp. Pausing for a moment, she remembers exactly who started this. After all, she was invited.   
  
It takes the telepath a while to figure out how things ended up like this, with herself on the bottom. Jean's never been on the bottom. How is this shy little thing who could barely navigate through her own sentences without stumbling up, is dominating over her? Staring up at the hovering girl, almost about to protest, something catches Jean's eye. She notices the way her collar falls, slowly unveiling the skin along her neck, her shoulder, her chest. Jean's breath is caught, dumbstruck on how this beautiful wallflower seems to be seducing her without even knowing it. The older girl doesn't move an inch and decides to let this one go, just this once. As long as no one finds out. It's not like she's going to let it happen again...  
  
~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Jean was never nervous infront of a crowd. So becoming a teacher didn't really phase her. It's the way she prefers it. Jean is always on top. But when Rogue spits back a rebuttal to her theory, one that's so blunt and obvious, that she fears that the students could be right, she stops. While the rest of the class is gaping and making intimidated noises, Rogue gives Jean the once over, rolls her eyes, and continues scribbling in her book. The teacher can't help but to stare. Notice the way stray strands of hair cascades, shadowing her face. The way her lips occasionally murmurs something while she writes. The way the neck of her top dips lower than low. Jean notices the way Rogue's cheeks, despite her best effort to hide it, shows the tinge of a blush and decides to maybe let this one go, just one more time. 


	2. Scenes in Magazines

Title: Scenes in Magazines  
  
Author: Meesh  
  
Disclaimer: not mines.  
  
Pairing: J/R  
  
Summary: For sex, we defy death.  
  
A/N: So I JUST wrote this...dunno why, just felt like it. I didn't really intend for this to be a second chapter, but after I was done with it, I just felt like throwing it in. Besides, it's kinda short on its own. Well, here we go, for the first time ever in my J/R fanfic writing history, A SEQUEL! Whoot whoot marmoot!   
  
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The hard wood is cool against her back as she leans stiffly, locked in a staring contest with the younger girl parallel to her. She wants to think to herself that it's been well over an eternity when she cracks, but it hasn't. It's barely been five minutes until she has to push herself off the wall and approach the shorter woman. In return, that shorter woman glares up at her, smirks pretentiously, and with that molasses slow drawl tells her, "Say uncle..."   
  
She dips in, closer and closer, and as hands glide up along the front of her lab coat, barely whispers, "Uncle."  
  
In a quick tug, their lips are pushed together and she begins to feel sparks spill from the younger girl's mouth and into hers. So dizzied that when she feels herself being pushed backwards, she has to grasp onto the smaller body to keep herself from tipping over. A door opens behind her and they stumble onto her bed. Hurriedly clawing at the clothing seperating the two, she moans when she feels a feral growl being muffled into her neck...  
  
~~~~~~~~  
  
She clenches her fists, lying limp at either side of her head. Waits for the breath to slip out between her lips, it's so cold, she wonders if she's turned blue. Blue with purple fingerprints left along every inch of her body. Though her body movements are sluggish, she's left with a whirlwind of cinders for thoughts. So hot and close and deadly. Hungry lips begging for a taste and eager hands looking for something to hold onto. Dark hair spilling over a moonlight pale shoulder, tiny freckles along a sleek collar, and a twisted painting of veins and scars hidden under a pair of gloves. She remembers the feeling of sin washing over her and a battle between dying and ecstasy so tangled, she couldn't tell them apart. A warm tongue flickering along her pulse, a more than friendly brush along her arm. She lies in a numb puddle, letting the stir of emotions in her belly boil her through. The lingering feelings of a slender knee creeping up along her thigh and the soft caress of feather light fingers along her waist. She begins to take deep breaths, letting blood fill her up again and soon she's showered up, wrapped in her bathrobe. When Scott strolls in and tosses aside his jacket, he leans into her for a kiss. Mirroring him, she leans. They pull away and he smiles, but all she can do is sigh and wish for that spark to fall on her lips again. 


End file.
